


to the lonely sea and the sky

by LadyMerlin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Backstory, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, human!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 13:09:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8103658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMerlin/pseuds/LadyMerlin
Summary: The whole family is off doing things and he's on his own. It's shaping up to be yet another lonely family vacation for Derek. Then he meets Stiles.





	

Derek had a perfectly good reason for hating family vacations, okay?

It wasn’t that he didn’t love his family, that wasn’t it at all. In fact, he loved them loads, and _that_ was the problem.

Family vacations had always been a nightmare to plan. They had so many family members that at least three flight tickets were redeemed from the miles generated by the others, and hotels often called back to confirm, incredulously, the number of rooms they'd tried to book. When they finally did manage to coordinate a dozen different timetables and available dates and deadlines and stuff, Derek thought that the family would at least spend a little time together, when on a _family_ vacation.

The problem was, he was the only one who thought so.

Mom and Dad had been going on romantic sub-vacations ever since they started trusting Laura to look after everyone else. They’d stay with the family just long enough to settle the kids in, before going off on their own. When Derek got old enough to look after the younger kids, Laura did the same thing, running off for a romantic get-away with her flavour-of-the-month. His brother Mark was into extreme sports, and he got along really well with their cousin Malia, which left Uncle Peter and Aunt Bella to do whatever it was they did, when they vanished for weeks on end. His other brother, Evan, was as introverted as it got, and even though Derek was kind of introverted too, he wanted to do some nice stuff on holiday. Evan was unlikely to leave the hotel room unless he could take his book with him.

And now that Cora had a boyfriend with whom she wanted to do stuff, Derek was all alone, on the so-called “family vacation”.

His normal life was pretty lonely. He’d been hoping that for once, _just once_ , they could hang out together, for a little while. He missed the times when they used to go on picnics in the park on weekends and have mandatory family dinners on Thursday nights.

And yeah, he’d been the one to move away for his job, because he was good at it, and because he was doing good, but he missed his family, and it felt like they just didn’t miss him back.

In any case, he’d just about resigned himself to eating ice cream alone on the beach for the next ten days while getting hit on by random strangers and thinking about Kate.

God, _Kate_.

She’d been the one he’d hoped to do all those things with, that everyone seemed to do on ‘family vacations’. He’d been so eager to maybe have _someone_ like everyone did, that he’d looked straight past all the warning signs. And then she’d broken his heart by running away with a dentist who had two ex-wives and a handful of children of his own. Derek should have known better than to think he’d ever not be alone.

It was easy enough to find a beach. They were in Honolulu, they were pretty much surrounded by a beach in all directions. He got to the beach and found himself a shave ice stand, because he wanted to get started on his holiday plan, chop chop, no time to waste.

Sitting on the sugar-soft sand, surrounded by the sounds of laughter and life, with the sea breeze whipping through his hair, he could almost pretend that he was okay. He could pretend that the laughing people around him were actually his friends, and that he was just taking a break before joining them again.

Derek sat there for hours, with the sun beating down on his bare skin and the tide kissing his toes, making up back-stories for the people wandering around on the beach, deciding which couples were just friends and which ones were in love, wondering if any of the hundreds of imaginary dramas he’d been dreaming up were anywhere near the truth.

And then he heard –

“Scott, buddy, you’re an idiot. Go after her.”

“But Stiiiillees,” came a whine, and Derek could almost imagine a puppyish face to go with it. “You’ll be aloooooneee,” the second one continued – _Scott_ , if his investigative skills were anything to go by.

“Yeah, but it’s okay. I’m your bro, dude. I want you to be happy. Now _go_ , before she finds another cutie to hang out with.”

Derek looked around, trying to place the conversation, but there were so many people around him that he literally couldn’t tell who was saying what. He didn’t know why he cared, but it sounded a lot like his own story, and he was a little bit invested.

“Stiles, you’re the best _!_ I’ll see you back at the hotel tonight! Love you!” Derek could hear the voice getting fainter, like he was getting further and further away.

“Yeah, yeah,” – _Stiles_ said, “love you too, asshole,” he trailed off, and then he was silent.

Derek sighed a little, finishing off the last of his shave ice before the sticky sweet juice actually got all the way down his forearm. He was never going to know who ‘Scott’ and ‘Stiles’ were, and it would probably be just another missed connection, like all the other things in Derek’s life, and it hardly made a damn bit of difference anyway. He didn’t live in a romcom.

Just as he was about to lick the sticky juice that had determinedly made its way to Derek’s elbow, someone dropped heavily into the sand beside him. Derek froze, eyes wide and his arm twisted almost comically to reach the trail. He was lucky he hadn’t stuck his tongue out yet, because sitting beside him was possibly the _cutest_ guy Derek had seen in a while.

The guy looked back at him with comically wide eyes – whiskey gold, his mind helpfully supplied – and then snorted, provoking Derek to lower his arm and pull on his customary scowl. The beach was crowded, but not _that_ crowded – why couldn’t this (beautiful) man find somewhere else to sit?

The guy snorted again and started rummaging through his small backpack, before pulling out a small packet of tissue paper and handing it to Derek, which made him scowl even more. He hated getting caught out like that, all graceless and awkward like he was a teenager again.

The guy chanced a look up at him and his smile widened into a look of awe. “Duuuude,” he said, and Derek froze again. “Your _eyebrows_ ,” he said, dragging out the word, and it just figured that this was Derek’s luck, of course, because who else would it be?

“Yes, Stiles, I have _eyebrows_ ,” he replied, drawling in his most mocking tone.

He hadn’t expected it to work so well, because when Stiles froze and drew back, Derek pulled back too, and he hadn’t even realised that they’d leaned in towards each other.

“How do you know who I am?” he asked, and he sounded fierce, all of a sudden; genuinely worried.

Derek sighed, because yeah, his life was perfect. Laura would laugh when she found out that he’d been mistaken for a stalker again. “I overheard your conversation with your friend, a minute ago. Recognized your voice.”

Stiles deflated and looked away. “Yeah, hilarious, right? Stiles can’t even get to spend time with his best friend on holiday.”

Derek rolled his eyes and finally picked up the packet of tissue from where Stiles had dropped it. “I’m Derek,” he replied, and he didn’t even know why he was giving his name to a perfect stranger, he’d never done that before, “and no, it’s not. My family’s been doing that to me for years now.”

Stiles chanced a look at him, and seemed pleased that he’d used his tissue paper to wipe away any traces of sticky water. His shoulders relaxed, and he sat up straight, turning towards Derek again. Something about the movement reminded Derek of the way flowers unfurled in the morning, and it was painfully endearing. “Wanna get another one? On me?”

Derek rolled his eyes again, because his base state was sarcastic, “Sure,” he replied. “Might as well as get started on my itinerary,” he got to his feet and brushed the sand off his hands. He turned to Stiles, who was still sitting on the ground, and extended a hand to help him up. “You coming?”

Stiles accepted and pushed himself upwards. His hand was solid in Derek’s own, warm and covered in sand. It took a full second before he thought to let go, but thankfully Stiles didn’t seem to notice. Standing, he was half an inch taller than Derek, and lean where Derek was broad. “I thought you were being sarcastic.”

Derek huffed a laugh, because yeah. “Ten minutes after I got to this beach this morning, I decided that I’d spend the next ten days right here, eating ice cream. It was an inside joke.”

Stiles grinned, but raised a sceptical eyebrow, the expression clashing horribly on his face – _horribly,_ not adorably. “An inside joke with yourself?” he asked, teasing.

Derek shrugged. “Not anymore,” he smiled, because yes, that was definitely flirting, and judging by the blush on Stiles’ cheek, he was reading it loud and clear. “Now c’mon. You owe me ice cream.”

Stiles laughed, and it was the most open sound he’d ever heard, like Stiles was throwing everything he had into that laugh. “It’s shave ice, you heathen, not ice cream.”

Fifteen minutes found them sitting on the edge of the pier, eating their shave ice with their feet dipped in the ocean.

“Ever think about sharks?” Stiles asked, out of the blue.

Derek, who was chasing yet another trickle of mango juice down his palm, froze.

Stiles burst into laughter, his eyes crinkling with mirth and his entire frame shaking with it.

“Shut up,” Derek grumped.

“You really are a messy eater, aren’t you?” Stiles teased.

“Shut _up_ ,” Derek said again, blushing helplessly in the face of Stiles’ laughter.

Stiles shook his head and kicked his feet, splashing the water, turning back to the horizon again. “Ever think about sharks?” he asked again, solemn.

Derek shrugged. “I’m not much into marine biology, to be honest. It scares me a little.”

Stiles smiled but nodded, as if conceding the point. “What kind of biology are you into, then?” he asked, and from anyone else, Derek would have bet money that it was a pick up line. But Stiles looked perfectly sincere, and curious.

“I study wolves. I’m a biologist with a focus on conservation and repopulation.”

“No _way,_ ” Stiles whispered, a little hushed. Derek turned to him, wondering what had inspired that awe in his voice, but Stiles was looking at him. He flushed. “That’s the coolest thing ever, Derek, holy shit!”

Derek laughed a little. It was always nice to find someone who didn’t think he was a glorified pet breeder. “I think so,” he agreed, and he did. He loved his wolves more than he even liked most people.

“I mean, damn,” Stiles continued. “How many wolves do you have in your pack?” he asked, instead of leaving it at that.

Derek was surprised that he wanted to know, because most people wanted to talk about themselves, instead of asking about him. Stiles looked, as he always did, sincere. “Thirty odd. It’s an unusually large pack, because normally the land isn’t fertile enough to support such large numbers, but a lot of my wolves were bred in captivity.”

Stiles looked confused, so Derek explained. “They’re rescues. People buy them on the black market and then lock them up in small cages when they realise that wolves don’t make good pets. We rescue them, socialise them and release them to the pack.”

“Normally the pack would kill any intruders who got too close, but we got lucky. The alpha seems to have realised that we’re running a rehab. She teaches them how to survive, and keeps them in her pack, and we help the pack, so it’s a win-win.”

“That,” Stiles said, his hands flying in front of him, “That is ridiculous, oh my god I can’t even- I mean, _wow._ ” He took a deep breath. “Those jackasses who buy wolves as pets should be shot, I swear.”

Derek nodded, and that was enough for Stiles to launch into a related story of his own. “My dad’s the Sheriff, back home. We live in California, so we don’t have any wolves, but once there was a complaint about a dog running around the Preserve, and turns out it was an abandoned wolf some asshole had brought to NorCal and abandoned when it got sick from the weather. It was a disaster because no one knew what to do and we ended up calling experts from Canada to get the wolf out. It was in such terrible shape and the vet could only do so much and we were so scared it would die…”

The story sounded oddly familiar. “Where in NorCal do you live?”

“Podunk town called Beacon Hills,” Stiles replied, surprised at the subject change.

“No way,” Derek grinned. “Me too!”  Stiles looked shocked, like he didn’t quite believe it. “My mum’s Talia Hale.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles breathed, “you’re Derek _Hale_ , the missing son!”

Derek rolled his eyes, because yeah, he knew they’d called him that, even though it was a ridiculous epithet. “And that wolf is fine, by the way. Her name is Erica, and she’s very happy with the Canadian Pack now, she’s even got a mate named Vernon.”

“You’re the expert they called down?” Stiles demanded, and then laughed. “Of course, you are! You know, my dad has an epic crush on your dad. They even have coffee every week.”

Derek looked a little taken aback. “What, really?”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded. “They go on these adorable man-dates on Thursday afternoons and eat disgusting food at Josie’s café, like they don’t know that everyone in town is reporting back to me about what dad’s eating. Heart problems, y’know?” he asked, and Derek nodded, even though he didn’t.

“Also, _Vernon?_ Who chose that monstrosity of a name?”

Derek blushed a little, but replied “I don’t think someone named _Stiles_ has much room to comment, do you?”

Stiles burst out laughing again, and Derek smiled back, a little pleased. “You’re so protective over your wolves! It’s adorable!” Derek would have snapped, except he could tell that Stiles wasn’t even teasing.

“It’s been a while since someone called me adorable,” he replied, once Stiles had stopped laughing.

Stiles looked almost comically outraged on his behalf. Derek shrugged. “There’s not many people to date, where I work and live. It’s really quiet.”

Stiles looked intrigued. “Tell me about it,” he demanded.

So that’s how Derek spent the next few hours, telling Stiles about his log cabin in the woods with shitty wi-fi and a real fireplace. About his pack, Erica and Boyd and Isaac and Claudia, his favourite rescues. About birthing and pups and the times when it just didn’t work out. Derek hadn’t talked about his work so much in years, because it never seemed like anyone was interested enough to listen. He’d always known he was the boring one, in his family. He didn’t need it reinforced. But Stiles was hanging on to his every word like it was magic, and it was really flattering, and just so _nice_.

“What do you do?” he asked, finally.

Stiles grinned a little. “I’m working on a law degree right now, but I’m probably not going to use it. I’m writing a book. Well, I’ve written a book, I’m writing the sequel. The Moon Runner?” he asked, sounding a little hopeful.

Derek’s jaw dropped. “You wrote that?” Stiles ducked his head and nodded. “Holy shit, I love that book, it’s amazing!”

Stiles beamed and he was just about to open his mouth when his stomach rumbled. Derek looked hilariously torn. “I’d ask if you wanted another shave ice, but Stiles, d’you want to join me for dinner? On me.”

Stiles’ megawatt smile softened into something softer, sweeter, and more private. “Derek, I’d love to.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is another fic which I wrote ages ago. I don't know why I didn't post it then. I think there was supposed to be more, but I don't remember what it was supposed to be. I see potential for a sequel, but it'll depend on demand, I suppose. 
> 
> Title comes from _Sea Fever_ by John Masefield.


End file.
